You’re the only person I want to talk to but I swear I’m annoying you. And I tell myself I shouldn’t talk to you first because if you wanted to talk to me you would. But maybe you want me to admit everything first and while I think its kind of romantic that you might think its cute for me to babble and confess stupid girly feelings and desires about you and me and us, frankly its pretty cruel to allow me to thrust out so much of myself and my thoughts without telling me to stop or even respond by telling me how you feel, so unless you’re planning on smirking, telling me to shut up and silencing my lousy ranting with your passionate lips then you better talk to me first.
I mean, if you want to…
I’m sorry…
And damn I hate you. Because you make me crazy nervous and crazy stupid all at once and I never know what to do or say around you because you’re so cool and I’m so lame so I say the first thing that comes to my head and we both know how fucking terribly that ends, because you end up confused and I try to tell you again and you’re even more confused and I swear if you weren’t so pretty I’d slap some sense into you, and while my methods of displaying affection may be odd, insulting you is kind of relieving for me because seriously you are so stupid sometimes and it frustrates me that you can’t get that I’m completely fascinated by you or that you can’t tell me something without making it an elaborate fanciful metaphor but honestly I also like teasing you because maybe that means I’m not so stupid after all.
And just when I think I’m not going to get anything out of you, just when I think that I’m just making a fool of myself, you smile or acknowledge me all on your own and I forgive you. Or maybe I’ve never even been upset with you. Maybe I’ve forgiven you from the start and now I’m just waiting. Because all I want is to see where this goes. Maybe someday your fingers will lace with mine. And knowing what could be is painful because its only a "could be"...
And I swear we could have worked. I could have fixed you. You could have fixed me. Or we could just be broken together and call it a masterpiece, and work out the kinks.
Fuck you. I like you so much. Kiss me idiot.
I’m telling you all this because at this point, I’ve got nothing to lose.
And I think that we’ve got nothing to lose too.